


So Why Don't You Blow Me? (Frerard One Shots)

by TheRealRavenIero



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealRavenIero/pseuds/TheRealRavenIero
Summary: A collection of one shots I found good enough to show the public ((:smut warnings for nearly every entry





	1. Reunited

"I can't believe you're not even fighting to keep us, Gerard. Did you ever love us?!" Lindsey wailed, trying to pack her suitcase as quick as she could while Gerard held a drowsy Bandit. "Don't pull that, Lindsey. You know I love Bandit. I'm just not sure if I loved you, or if it was just my dick." Gerard growled, rolling his eyes. Lindsey glared at him as she zipped up her suitcase, taking it downstairs and carelessly tossing it into her car. Gerard watched from the doorway, not wanting to let Bandit go, but you can't disobey court orders, can you?

Lindsey walked up to the doorway, taking Bandit into her arms and resting Bandit on her hip. "Goodbye, Gerard Way. I hope the rest of your life is as miserable as it was before you met me." Lindsey replied sassily, glaring into Gerard's hazel eyes. Gerard smirked, taking a deep breath. "Goodbye, Lindsey Ballato. I expect you're going to be headed back to the pole again?" Lindsey's smug grin disappeared as she quickly went back to her car, strapping Bandit into her car seat before getting into the driver's seat and speeding away from Gerard's now wife-less house.

Gerard sighed, going inside and locking the door. Don't get him wrong, Gerard was relieved to finally have Lindsey out of his house, and hopefully, out of his life. He sat down on his couch, running his fingers through his semi greasy, nearly shoulder length hair. Gerard couldn't help but feel empty, but who could blame him? Over half of the stuff in the house was already gone.

Gerard began to think back to 2004 when he would feel like this a lot, and there was really only one person who was able to make him feel happy again.

Frank.

Gerard hadn't talked to Frank in about a month, with Frank being on tour and all, but even when the two men did talk, the awkwardness and tension was more than present. Their conversations or meetups would almost always end in one of them leaving abruptly. Gerard didn't quite understand, but he had to admit, he was used to it.

Internally conflicted, Gerard changed his clothes, putting on some black skinny jeans and a plain black shirt, shaving his sorry excuse for facial hair and combing his hair before sighing as he looked into the mirror. He was doing this.

Gerard grabbed his keys, making sure he had his phone before going outside, locking his front door and going to his car. His hands shook with uncertainty as he got into the driver's seat, putting the key into the ignition and driving out of the suburban neighborhood and onto the highway.

Gerard and Frank never brought up what they did after the shows during My Chemical Romance's time as a band. They wanted to keep what happened backstage, in their hotel rooms, dressing rooms and tour busses a secret. Yet it seemed like all of these teenage fanfiction writers somehow knew exactly what Frank and Gerard did in their alone time when they were filled with adrenaline after a show.

As Gerard turned down the exit leading to the city Frank lived in, he began gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white. What if Frank was busy with Jamia and his kids? Gerard didn't want to be a bother to Frank; Frank meant so fucking much to Gerard.

Gerard was just too stubborn to admit it.

Gerard soon made a left turn into a quiet neighborhood, soon making another left and recognizing Frank's house down the road. Gerard could feel his heart rate steadily increase as he got closer and closer to Frank.

He pulled up outside of the 2 story grey house, parking his car and sitting in silence, trying to work up the courage to just get out of the vehicle. Once he finally did, he kept his keys in his hand as he walked up to the front door, just in case it wasn't a good time for him to be there.

Gerard reached the doorstep, raising his arm to knock. He held his arm in the air for a good few seconds before shaking his head, and knocking about five times. He waited and heard the front door unlock, and Frank Iero appeared in the door way, his 5'6, Italian, tattooed self.

"Gerard." Frank said, obvious surprise in his voice, His hazel eyes widened a bit, but soon softened as he gave Gerard a small smile. "Is this a bad time?" Gerard asked, trying his absolute best to hide his nervousness. "Nah, Jamia and the kids are gone for the weekend, visiting her parents and such. Come in." Frank said, stepping out of the way and allowing the taller man in.

Gerard stepped in and stood awkwardly in the living room as Frank closed the door, then went to sit down on the couch and cracking his inked fingers. "What brings you here, Way?" Frank asked as Gerard hesitantly sat down on a chair opposite him. "Well, Lindsey just left, and I was feeling kind of alone and...yeah." Gerard said, his vision cast downward as he suddenly got the feeling this was a horrible idea.

"What do you mean, 'left'?" Frank asked, getting up and going into the kitchen, quickly coming back with two bottles of Corona. "You want one? I know that you don't drink that much but..." Frank shrugged, a light blush tinting his cheeks. Gerard didn't think twice before taking the bottle, quietly thanking him and taking a small drink. The bitter liquid ran across Gerard's taste buds, making chills run across his entire body. It felt so good.

"Anyways, what's going on?" Frank took a drink of his alcohol, hazel eyes locked on Gerard. "Well, the divorce got finalized, and she ended up taking me to court for custody of Bandit. She fucking brought up what happened when I was drinking and caught up with drugs, even though that was way back in the past, before I even met her. She played the 'innocent little wife' card and got full custody of Bandit. They're gone, and I didn't know who else to go to."

Frank had drunk about a third of his bottle in the time it took Gerard to say that. Frank nodded, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Gerard, I knew she was bad news from the start. She was basically just using you for fame. Now that she's got that talentless little band of hers, she doesn't need you anymore." Gerard nodded, beginning to drink his emotions away. Frank smirked, getting up to get them both another bottle.

After a few more drinks, the men were both smiling, laughing, and telling poorly worded stories, empty Corona bottles scattered around them. Gerard had moved to sit next to Frank on the couch, and neither of them felt out of place. If anything, it felt right that they were so close to each other.

Gerard sighed, taking a moment to look Frank over. "I've missed you, Frankie." He muttered, his jumbled mind not thinking before saying. Frank's smile slowly faded as he turned his head to fully face the older man. "Wh...what?" Frank's eyes narrowed as Gerard's widened, his face soon stricken with fear. "I, um...fuck...I didn't mean it like that, I just- "

Gerard was cut off by a pair of lips placed hesitantly onto his. Gerard instantly leaned into the kiss, putting his hand on Frank's shoulder. Frank pulled away, his eyes dark, his breathing heavy. "I've missed you too, Gee bear." Gerard smiled, taking that as an invitation to kiss Frank again. The kiss was filled with the want and need that had been suppressed ever since they both had gotten married. Gerard pushed Frank onto his back, trailing kisses across his jawline and down his neck. He latched his lips onto Frank's scorpion tattoo, smirking as he heard Frank moan underneath him. "Gerard...let's go upstairs." Frank said in heavy pants, threading his hands through greasy locks like he used to do all those years ago.

Gerard got up and Frank eagerly followed suit, grabbing Gerard's hand and quickly leading him upstairs to his and Jamia's room. But right now, Jamia was the last thing on Frank's mind.

Frank closed the door, quickly going back to Gerard and pushing him onto the bed, straddling his hips and kissing him hungrily. "Fuck, Frankie..." Gerard moaned as Frank pulled back, trying to unbutton Gerard's pants. "Gerard...I need you." Frank panted, taking off his shirt as Gerard did the same. Gerard and Frank's relations never took too long, they were always quick and to the point. Even after all these years, nothing really changed.

Gerard rolled them over so that he was on top, quickly discarding his pants and pulling Frank's sweatpants off. "Prep?" Gerard asked, his breaths coming out in heavy pants. Frank shook his head quickly, licking his lips. "I just want you, Gerard."

Gerard moaned at Frank's words, quickly taking his boxers off and not-so-attractively spitting into his hand, wrapping it around himself with a low groan. He wanted to make it as painless as possible for Frank. He lined himself up with Frank's entrance, his head low as he slowly began to push in, suppressing a moan as he felt Frank's heat around him. Frank gripped the edge of the bed sheets, trying to adjust to Gerard as quick as possible. "Fuck, Frank...still so fucking tight..."

Gerard finally pushed all the way in, giving Frank a moment to adjust. Frank took a deep breath, looking Gerard in the eyes. "Fuck, Gerard, move." Gerard didn't hesitate in immediately trying to find Frank's prostate, a weird feeling in his mind that something bad was about to happen. Gerard nearly forgot about pleasuring Frank, lost in his own euphoria. Frank noticed and wrapped his legs around Gerard, pulling him closer. Gerard continued his search, changing the angle of his hips before Frank let out a strangled moan, arching his back as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Fuck! Oh god...fuck me Gerard!" Frank moaned as Gerard kept hitting his prostate dead on. Gerard felt the heat in his lower stomach begin to coil, sweat beading on his chest and forehead. "I'm close, Frankie..." Gerard breathed out, leaning down and kissing Frank before moving his lips to Frank's neck. "Gerard...it hurts..." Frank whined, reaching down to stroke himself.

Then, the door opened and Jamia walked in, her head down. "Hey, Frank, I forgot -" she looked up, seeing the scene in front of her. "What the fuck, Frank?! I'm gone for a day and you're fucking cheating on me?! Fuck you!!" Jamia stormed out, leaving Gerard in an awkward position - **literally**.

"Do you want me to stop?" Gerard asked, about to pull out. "Fuck no. You're about to make me do something she could never do by herself. I always have to think about you." Frank laughed to himself. Gerard smirked, leaning down to kiss Frank and beginning to thrust himself closer to his orgasm while quickly stroking Frank in time with his thrusts. Frank didn't last long after that, moaning loudly as he came in thin white strips on Gerard's artist fingers and the "And" tattooed on his stomach. The feeling of Frank clenched around him and the noises he made were enough to send Gerard over the edge as well as he spilled inside of Frank.

Gerard pulled out and collapsed next to Frank, wiping his forehead. "Frank...?" Gerard asked, watching Frank roll over so that he was facing him. "Hm?" Frank looked into his eyes, smiling to himself as he felt the old feelings rushing back. "I love you..." Gerard said, nervously running a hand through his sweat drenched hair. "I love you too, Gee." Frank smirked, kissing Gerard before snuggling up into his chest.

Finally, they were together again.


	2. I Wanna Be More Conscious, I Wanna Live in the Now

"I can't believe you dragged me here." Frank grumbled. It was a Saturday night, and instead of Frank being at home, pounding Gerard into their mattress, Gerard wanted to go to the theatre and watch The Phantom of the Opera.

"Oh, stop complaining, Frankie. It's gonna be great!" Gerard beamed, taking in the sights around them. The theatre was beautiful, elegant and sophisticated.

Gerard had tried to convince Frank to dress up so they could look the part, but Frank was adamant on just going in black jeans and a tee shirt.

In the end, after Gerard had emerged from the bathroom in black dress pants and a charcoal grey waistcoat over a white shirt, Frank gave in, grumbling to himself as he put on a formal black button up and nice black skinny jeans.

Gerard loved the theatre; he loved watching the actors perform with such feeling and grace. Frank, on the other hand, thought it was completely boring. In Frank's mind, if you weren't thrashing around with a guitar in your hands or screaming lyrics into a microphone, what's the point of ever being on a stage?

Frank hated plays, and as the lights dimmed, he suppressed the urge to groan. Gerard's attention was immediately drawn to the actors up on the stage as he listened intently to the lines with a small smile on his face. Frank crossed his arms, watching the people on the stage with a scowl and feigned interest.

Eventually, Frank looked over at his boyfriend, his stomach twisting as he took in the sight. Gerard's eyes were bright, shining in the reflected spotlights and stage lights. His face still held a smile, though it seemed to gradually grow. Gerard was so beautiful; his features so elegant. Frank felt his jeans begin to tighten as Gerard set his elbow on the arm rest, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. His long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, and Frank couldn't take his gaze away. As the play continued, it wasn't long before Frank was fully hard in his skinny jeans. He knew it would happen - Gerard had that effect on him - but he didn't want to stop looking. A plan started formulating itself in Frank's mind, and he smirked.

Frank lowered one of his tattooed hands, briefly watching the Phantom entice the female protagonist before pressing gently on his clothed erection. He whimpered quietly, hoping to get Gerard's attention, but Gerard was too engrossed in the play to even notice that Frank wasn't paying attention. Frank looked around, feeling somewhat glad that Gerard had picked a somewhat desolate place in the audience to sit. Frank did it again, palming himself with a bit more force than he intended, and bit his lip as he moaned quietly.

Gerard definitely heard that, recognizing the familiar sound and gazing at Frank, ignoring how his stomach began to twist at the noises, and now the sight as well.

"Frank...! What the hell are you doing?!" Gerard whisper-yelled, his cheeks tinting a light pink as Frank smirked up at him.

"Look at what you do to me, Gee." Frank purred, continuing to palm himself as he let his head fall back against the seat, eyes closed and his mouth slightly open as audible whimpers left his throat.

Gerard bit back a groan; Frank was such a tease. "Frank, we're in public! Stop it!" Gerard hissed, rubbing his own legs together to try to prevent his dick from waking up any further.

"I'll stop if you help me with my little problem, sweetheart, even though realistically, it's not that little." Frank smirked, making Gerard roll his eyes in amusement.

"You're such a horny little shit, Frankie." Gerard mused, glancing back at the play.

"Yeah, but you love it." Frank playfully shot back, beginning to palm himself again.

"Jesus Christ, Frank." Gerard sighed, looking around before quickly gripping Frank's erection through his jeans. Frank let out a surprised moan, his hands grasping the arm rests as his throat strangled the noise. Gerard smirked, sticking his hand inside Frank's pants as he continued to watch the play, as it was already more than halfway done. How long had they been there?

Frank leaned back, unbuttoning his jeans to give Gerard's hand a bit more room. Gerard gripped Frank's erection, his cold artist fingers wrapping around Frank's hot skin.

Frank hissed at sensation, soon moaning as Gerard began moving his hand, still watching the play as if nothing explicit was going on. Gerard thumbed at Frank's slit, making the tattooed man groan out loud. "Shh, Frankie, if you're too loud, I'm gonna have to stop." Gerard teased, smirking at Frank before returning his gaze to the play and beginning to move his hand again.

"Fuck..." Frank whimpered, trying to make himself seem less suspicious. Gerard thumbed Frank's slit again, collecting all the precum before he began to pump the shorter man quicker.

Frank was embarrassingly close, but at that point in time, he really didn't care. All he cared about was coming, then taking Gerard home and punishing him for being such a teasing little asshole.

"Gerard...please, no more fucking around...I'm so close..." Frank panted, gripping the armrests so hard that his knuckles began turning white. "I'm going to f-fucking - ah, punish the fuck out of you when - shit, when we get home..."

Gerard's blood ran cold as soon as he heard that; he _hated_ punishments. Well, he hated certain ones, and as his mind raced, he could only think of what Frank would decide to do because of his actions today.

Frank's breath began coming out in quick pants, and Gerard could tell he was almost there. Gerard knew that Frank was always embarrassingly loud when he came, so he covered Frank's mouth with his own, kissing him fiercely as he ran his thumb over Frank's slit one last time.

Frank let go after that, whining into Gerard's mouth as he spilled inside his jeans and on Gerard's knuckles.

As Frank came back down from his high, he looked over and saw Gerard still watching the play, a subtle smirk on his face as he licked his fingers clean.

Frank leaned over, whispering in Gerard's ear.

_"Don't get too comfortable, kitten. You're in big trouble when we get home."_


	3. I'm Not Sure What They Said

The crowd cheered one last time before Frank Iero and his band, known as The Patience, walked off the stage. Dripping with sweat, Frank sighed, pushing his shoulder length hair out of his face as he handed his guitar to one of the set managers.

Shows like these were Frank's favorite: he would meet a ton of fans before the show, get tons of gifts, then play his heart out with his best friends while screaming out lyrics to a crowd that would eagerly scream them back at him. Frank loved it.

There was one thing Frank loved more than performing on stage, and that was his amazing boyfriend, Gerard.

Frank and Gerard met when Gerard had decided that they needed another rhythm guitarist for his new up and coming band, 'My Chemical Romance'. Frank was accepting into the band, and they instantly hit it off.

From the get go, Gerard was very open with Frank about being bisexual, and it gave Frank the confidence he didn't know he needed to come out as gay to the rest of the band. Frank was completely relieved when they all accepted him, and Gerard gave him the reassuring fact that the band would always accept him, no matter what.

Over the next few years, Frank found himself growing more attracted to Gerard, and because of the complicated nature of being on tour and having raging hormones, they did hook up quite a few times, but it never grew into anything more than that.

Around the band's 7th year together, Gerard met a nice girl named Lindsey, and he pushed all matters of fooling around with Frank aside. Frank was heartbroken, but kept his pain hidden as they continued to play shows.

But then everything changed. Gerard became incredibly short tempered, often storming out of recording sessions to smoke a cigarette or talk to Lindsey about whatever was bothering him.

Eventually the stress on all of the members became unbearable, and the band broke up after their 12th year together, but Frank didn't want to leave Gerard. He went up to the ex-lead singer a few days later, and sat down with him, pleading him to speak about why this was happening.

And that was when Gerard said it.

_"I love you, Frank. I've loved you since Bullets, but I've been too scared to say anything. I kept it all pent up, and it just ate at me. I guess after 12 years, I couldn't do it anymore. I'm so sorry."_

Gerard continued to ramble, but when he got to a particular part of the story that was nothing but him talking about how much he loathed himself, Frank silenced him with a kiss that told Gerard he felt the same way.

And the rest is history.

Frank drove to his and Gerard's home, eager to just relax with his love. He got out of the car, quickly going to the front door, having a bit of trouble unlocking it because he was so anxious.

"Gee, I'm home!" Frank called out once he got the door open, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

"I'm in the bedroom!" Frank heard Gerard call back, and Frank put the keys on the kitchen table, going upstairs to find his boyfriend sitting crisscross on the bed, his sketchbook in his lap and a pencil in his right hand, while his left hand was pushing his greasy, black locks out of his face. "Hey, sugar," Gerard acknowledged, placing his sketchbook to the side and giving Frank a quick kiss as he sat next to him, "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to tonight's show; I just had to finish this sketch for the new issue next month."

"Don't worry about it, mio amore," Frank reassured, rubbing his hand up and down Gerard's pale arm, "I understand."

Gerard smiled, leaning his head on Frank's shoulder as they sat in silence.

Gerard broke the silence, giggling to himself.

"What?" Frank asked, eyebrow raised.

"You smell bad." Gerard said, starting to giggle again.

"Well, when you're on stage singing rad lyrics and completely shredding on a guitar, it's kind of a given that you're going to smell afterwards." Frank mused, shaking his head lightly.

"You and your lyrics." Gerard jokingly scolded, stretching and grabbing his sketchbook again.

It was silent for another minute or two, before Frank asked, "Which one is your favorite?"

Gerard kept drawing. "My favorite what?"

"Your favorite one of my songs." Frank shrugged, and laughed to himself, "And you can't say She's the Prettiest Girl or Stitches for obvious reasons."

Gerard was quiet, his cheeks tinting a light red. "Um...I don't have a favorite." He eventually said, his tone not very convincing.

"I call bullshit." Frank said matter-of-factly, standing up and going over to their closet.

Gerard sighed, closing his sketchbook and running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I've gotta get something off my chest."

Frank froze, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow. Gerard reached his arm out, and Frank walked back to the bed, sitting and staring at Gerard.

"Frankie," Gerard started, looking down, "you know I love your music. You're such an amazing guitarist and your voice makes people go insane but..."

"But?" Frank pushed, tilting his head.

Gerard sighed again, as if what he was trying to say was impossible to get out of his mouth.

"But half the time, I have no idea what you're saying." He finally finished in a whisper, looking up at Frank with pink cheeks and shy eyes.

Frank blinked, processing what Gerard had just said before breaking into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face.

"What?" Gerard asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Oh, Gerard," Frank said, trying to calm himself down, "Baby, I didn't expect you to. Hardly anyone does. And do you wanna know why?"

Gerard just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Not everyone speaks Italian, mio amore."

Gerard kept staring at Frank, not quite understanding. "Well obviously, but what does that have to do with your lyrics?"

Frank rolled his eyes, laughing again. "My lyrics are in Italian, dumbass."

Everything seemed to click then, and Gerard let out a long "Ohh."

Frank smirked, looking at Gerard with mischievous eyes. "I can't say what I want to say in English, because then my music wouldn't be appropriate for all those fifteen and sixteen year olds out there."

"W-Why?" Gerard breathed out as Frank crawled onto the bed, pushing Gerard down.

"Because the lyrics are all about what I want to do to you whenever you're being a little tease..." Frank whispered, his mouth ghosting over Gerard's neck as he spoke, making the older man whimper.

But then Frank got up, heading out of the room.

"Frank? What are you doing?" Gerard asked, gazing down at the growing tent in his sweatpants.

"I'm gonna shower;" he heard Frank from down the hall, "Like you said, babycakes, I stink."

Gerard groaned, rolling over and sticking his face into the pillow.

"Fucking tease." He muttered, getting up and deciding to join Frank in the shower.


	4. A Broken Dick and A Headache

Frank and his friends were sat in a circle, all of them slightly drunk and wanting to have some fun. Frank was taking a drink of his fourth beer when Patrick said it.

"Let's play Truth or Dare!"

Of course, in everyone's state of inebriation, they all agreed.

Frank put his beer down, deciding to get in on the game as well.

It was six of them: Frank, Patrick, Pete, Andy, Ray, and Billie Joe. From Frank's perspective, he thought it would be fun, seeing as they were going to be playing with more than two people.

"Okay, okay, I'll go first." Pete spoke up, looking around the group. "Ray. Truth or dare?"

"Uh...truth."

Billie Joe coughed, trying to cover an utterance of "Pussy", which Ray answered by flipping him off.

"Alright," Pete took a breath, "is it true that you and Christa fucked the night y'all met?"

Ray went red, the other guys laughing or staring wide eyed at the curly haired man.

"I mean, we didn't fuck..." Ray trailed off, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "It was really just a handjob, and we were really drunk, and...yeah."

The group of guys all laughed, making Ray take another sip of his beer muttering "whatever".

Ray put his beer down, surveying the group of guys for someone worthy of the fateful question. "Andy, truth or dare?"

"Dare, man. I ain't no bitch." He joked, laughing when Ray glared at him.

"Hey, give him a break, man." Frank stepped in, shaking his head.

Ray smirked, finishing his beer and leaning back against the couch. "Alright, Hurley, I dare you to rack Frank as hard as you can."

Frank sputtered, nearly dropping his can of alcohol. "What the fuck?! I stick up for you and you throw me under the bus like that? That's fake." He slurred, shaking his head and running a hand through his short black hair.

The short man stood, pulling down his shirt and bracing himself for the inevitable racking he was about to receive.

Andy stood, smirking as Frank positioned his legs shoulder length apart, a grimace on his face and his hands clenched at his sides.

"You ready, Frankie?" Andy asked, stepping in front of Frank, just close enough where his foot would make direct contact with the shorter man's nether regions.

"Just get it over with." Frank whined, bracing himself and squeezing his eyes shut, awaiting the blow.

But it didn't come.

Frank raised an eyebrow and opened his eyes, only to be met with the sight of Andy pulling his leg back, looking like he was about to punt a football.

And then Andy let go.

Everything seemed to slow down. Frank's eyes widened in horror as he willed himself not to move out of the way. Andy's leg came down and his foot collided with Frank, making the other scream out in pain. Frank felt his knees cave inwards, and before he knew it, he was falling to the ground.

Unfortunately for him, he fell in the direction of the coffee table, slamming his head into the edge of it before crumbling into a heap on the ground, his hands cradling his injured manhood as he tried to catch his breath.

Everyone erupted into a fit of laughter, completely disregarding the agony that Frank was in.

Eventually the laughter died out, but Frank was still on the ground.

"Yo Frankie, you good?" Pete asked, the smile slowly fading from his face. He went over to Frank's crumbled form, putting his hand on the other's shoulder.

Frank slowly lifted his head, the rest of the guys gasping when they saw the gash above his right eyebrow, blood quickly trickling down the open wound.

"Fuck..." Frank groaned, tears crawling down his face despite his best efforts to keep them in. He dropped his head again, everything suddenly becoming too dizzy for him to handle.

"Jesus Christ, Iero, are you okay?" Ray asked worriedly, getting up and looking for his keys as Frank managed out a strangled, "No."

Billie ran into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of paper towels as Pete and Patrick slowly helped Frank to his feet, frowning at Frank's whimpers and utterances of "wait" and "stop". Billie gently pressed one of the paper towels to Frank's wound, muttering a "sorry" when Frank winced loudly.

"We gotta take him to the hospital, guys," Ray instructed, finally locating his keys and walking with them to the front door. "I'll drive."

~~

Frank sat in the waiting room, slowly rocking back and forth as he felt the area above his right eyebrow throb every two seconds. He was hunched over, trying his best to discreetly hold his crotch in the crowded emergency room.

The guys were surrounding him, Billie Joe still holding a paper towel to his head. He had gone through about five during the car ride, and another two as they sat there.

"Frank Ee-air-oh?" he heard a male voice say, looking up to see a tall man in a white coat holding a clipboard and looking around the waiting room.

He stood up, gritting his teeth as he tried his best to stand up straight. Billie handed him the towel, Frank muttering a "thanks" as he held it to the wound, walking over to the man.

"Right this way, and I'm sorry if I butchered your last name." The man apologized, a light pink tinting his cheeks.

Frank merely shook his head. "Happens all the time." He managed to say, his voice coming out rather harsh.

They walked into one of the examination rooms, the man closing the door as Frank sat down on the cot, the butcher paper crinkling under him. As the man turned back around to sit on one of the stools with wheels on them, Frank read the ID that hung off of his black lanyard.

_'Gerard A. Way, Ph.D.'_

"Alright, Frank, I'm Dr. Way; I'm just going to ask you a few questions, if it's okay with you." He began. A little late with the introduction, but Frank kept that comment to himself.

"Go right ahead." Frank mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as a sharp pain shot through his head.

"How old are you?" Dr. Way asked, grabbing a pen and waiting for an answer.

"Twenty-four."

"Do you drink?"

"Yes."

"Do you smoke?"

"Yes."

"When was your last physical?"

Frank wracked his brain. "Uh, I think about four months ago."

"Alright." Dr. Way muttered, jotting some other things down. Frank watched with intrigue as his tongue poked out between his lips, his hazel eyes concentrated. It wasn't hard to see that Dr. Way was very attractive.

Eventually, he put his pen in the pocket of his coat and moved his clipboard to the side. "Okay, so tell me exactly what happened tonight."

Frank embarrassingly retold the story of how he ended up injured on both poles of his body, and he noticed how Dr. Way seemed to be trying incredibly hard not to laugh, and trying even harder not to look down.

"Okay, well, let me take a look at that gash of yours." Dr. Way finally said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as he stood from his stool, walking over to the bed.

Frank took the paper towel away from the wound, watching as the doctor's eyebrows furrowed. He prodded the area around the wound, apologizing whenever he would do something that would hurt Frank. Eventually, he applied hydrogen peroxide, antibacterial cream, and a rather large band-aid over the wound.

"It's going to be tender for the next few days; just take it easy, and if you get dizzy, either lay down or come back here and we'll take a closer look at what's going on behind the scenes." The doctor advised, giving Frank a small smile.

Frank nodded, taking a shaky breath. Half of the problem was solved.

"Um, you said that your friend also hit you pretty hard, right?" Dr. Way hesitated, that pink tint coming back to his cheeks.

Frank nodded again, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

"Well, if it's alright with you, I'd like to...um...take a look and make sure everything's alright?"

Frank rubbed his hands together, nodding slowly. "Uh, yeah."

Dr. Way went into one of the cabinets, pulling out a hospital gown and handing it to Frank. "You go ahead and put this on, and I'll be back in a minute or two."

Frank took it, watching as Dr. Way quickly left the room. Well, this is fantastic. Frank kicked off his shoes, thinking about how he has to let a hot stranger look at his dick, most likely touch it, too. Today was Frank's lucky day. He rolled his eyes, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down with his boxers, wincing as he kicked them off. He tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head before taking the gown and putting his arms through the holes, reaching behind his neck and tying the little strings, doing the same with the strings at his lower back.

Frank sat back down on the bed, feeling his hands begin to shake as Dr. Way opened the door and peeked his head in. "You ready?" He asked quietly, smiling sympathetically as Frank nodded.

Dr. Way walked in, closing the door and walking to the foot of the bed. "If you can, I'd like you to stand so I can get a better examination." He mumbled, not quite meeting Frank's eyes.

Frank wordlessly stood up, standing in front of the bed with his hands clasped behind his back.

Dr. Way sighed, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. He got down on his knees in front of Frank, looking up into his eyes. Frank looked down at him, feeling his stomach tighten a notch.

"Just tell me if you get uncomfortable, and I'll stop." Dr. Way assured, biting his lip as he lifted up the bottom of Frank's hospital gown.

Frank felt his face heat up as he looked away, waiting for the contact. When it came, it took all the self-control he possessed to keep his breathing normal. Frank felt Dr. Way grasp his dick in his hand and slide his hand up as he hummed to himself, and Frank bit back a moan. He's just doing an examination, that's all.

"You seem to have quite a bit of bruising..." Dr. Way trailed off, his hand suddenly sliding down again, and Frank couldn't stop the whimper that tumbled past his lips.

Dr. Way looked up at him. "Did that hurt?" He asked worriedly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Um..." Frank said, his voice wavering as he met Dr. Way's eyes. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Dr. Way said, disappearing back under the gown. "How did it feel then, if it didn't hurt?" He asked, and Frank could sense a bit of a teasing tone in his voice.

"Good, I guess?" He mumbled, trying to control his shaking hands.

Dr. Way hummed again, his hand sliding down to the base of Frank's cock.

Then, Frank felt the head of his cock being encased in something wet and warm. He moaned, throwing his head back as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Aww, Frankie..." He felt Dr. Way pull off, and Frank looked down to see him peering up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "You're hurt pretty bad, should I kiss it better?"

Frank whined, nodding his head quickly, leaning back and gripping the edge of the bed. He felt Dr. Way sink back down, and he let out a breathy moan. He really wished that the gown wouldn't hinder his vision of Dr. Way - his first name was Gerard, right? Gerard and his pretty pink lips stretched around Frank's cock.

Frank reached behind is neck, undoing the strings and quickly doing the same with the other strings on his back. He threw the gown off, groaning at the sight of Gerard bobbing up and down, looking up at Frank with those fucking eyes.

"God - your fucking mouth," Frank groaned, threading his fingers through Gerard's black locks, tugging harshly as he bucked up. Gerard was whimpering around Frank, and he looked down to see the doctor quickly palming himself through his black jeans.

"Such a fucking slut," Frank moaned, beginning to fuck Gerard's mouth, moaning at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of Gerard's throat. "Sucking my cock like you've known me for months."

Frank felt the coil of heat becoming tighter in his stomach, and he knew he wasn't going to last long. "I-I'm close, babydoll," Frank managed out, his moans becoming shorter and more frequent.

Gerard let out a high-pitched moan; Frank guessed that he probably came in his pants right then, but he didn't let up. He kept sucking Frank's cock like his life depended on it, his tongue digging into the slit every time he came up. He kept running his tongue over the prominent vein on the underside of Frank's cock, and it was driving him crazy.

All it took was Gerard swallowing around him to send Frank over the edge. Frank came with a loud moan, and Gerard sucked Frank dry like he was his favorite drink.

When Frank's breathing had finally returned to normal, Gerard got up from his knees, blushing as he looked at Frank. He cleared his throat, pulling one of those prescription notepads out of the pocket of his white coat.

He scribbled something down onto it, looking up at Frank through his lashes and smiling. Gerard tore the sheet off of the pad, handing it to Frank. "You should get dressed. Make sure to come back if you experience dizziness."

Gerard made his way towards the door, and Frank looked down to examine the note. On it was a prescription for Tylenol, along with a phone number in the bottom right corner. Accompanying it was a little note.

_"That was fun, we should do it again sometime. Call me <3 -_ _xoG_ _"_

Frank looked to the door and saw Gerard standing there, his hand on the doorknob. He winked and walked out of the room, making Frank blush.

Frank had never been so grateful to have been racked in his entire life.


	5. Friends Can Break Your Heart, Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is one of the few more sadder ones that is going to be included in here, so fair warning, this isn't going to be fluffy or smutty.
> 
> xoR

**_I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you._ **

**_Don't want to, but I can't put nobody else above you._ **

Frank sat alone in his bunk, head in his hands, staring at his jean clad legs and trying to go over everything he'd been dealing with since he agreed to be a part of My Chemical Romance all those years ago.

Back then, everything was so simple. Write a new song, rehearse it until you've got it under your fingers, then go out and perform it for thousands of people who end up screaming for your dick by the end of the show.

The door to My Chem's tour bus opened, and Frank quickly laid back down and faced the wall, pretending to be asleep. He knew who had entered the tour bus.

He was positive, if the mixed smell of cigarettes and booze was any hint.

Gerard slowly made his way to the back of the bus where the bunks were, obviously drunk and not in his right mind.

Frank was about to "wake up" and get Gerard to his own bunk so he could sleep his inebriation off, but his breath caught in his throat when he heard the female giggling accompanying Gerard's own quiet laughter.

**_I hate you, I love you, I hate that I want you._ **

**_You want her, you need her, and I'll never be her._ **

Frank could have assumed that Lindsey would have been with him, but he wanted to be in his own world for a little bit longer.

He wanted to be lied to for a little bit longer.

Frank was at his happiest when he would come back to the bus during one of his bad days, knowing that Gerard would be his shoulder to cry on. Gerard would listen to everything that was on Frank's mind; he would offer consoling words and soft kisses that made everything better.

Gerard would make Frank feel loved, and Frank always felt alive after even the shortest amounts of time with the lead singer of their band.

Frank fell hard and fast for Gerard, and much to Frank's happiness, it seemed that Gerard had fell for him too.

Frank wouldn't consider it as "assuming Gerard's feelings"; they slept in the same bunk some nights, shared kisses on stage, and shared much more in private. The muttering of "I love you" and "everything will be okay" kept Frank going; those simple words kept Frank alive.

Now, however, they were starting to seem like lies, told for Gerard's own benefit. And even though they hurt Frank more than any tattoo he'd ever gotten, he could never get enough of Gerard Way. Gerard was Frank's personal drug, and Frank was beyond addicted.

Frank began to shake at the sounds of the pair's laughing and the noises of their lips smacking together. He could feel jealousy bubble in his veins at the mere thought of the two together, and just being in the same room as them while they were all hot and bothered made Frank want to punch something.

"Mm, Gee baby, wait," Lindsey panted, and Frank heard her get up and move, possibly backing away from Gerard a bit so she could talk. "What about Frankie?"

Frank heard Gerard scoff. "What about him?" The older man said, the tone of his voice making Frank's heart hurt.

"I don't want to do anything with him here," Lindsey spoke slowly, and Frank was grateful that she was, at least, being considerate. "It isn't polite; I know that I feel really out of place when Jimmy brings girls back to the van and has his way with them."

"Yeah, well," Gerard started, a loud sniff being heard, and Frank could just picture Gerard wiping his nose on his sleeve, "Jimmy and I are two very different people."

"Gerard." Lindsey said sternly, causing the older man to sigh.

"Well fuck, Linds. Either I fuck you, right here, regardless of Frank's presence, or you go back to your tour bus. I don't care." Gerard spoke, his speech still slightly slurred.

Frank closed his eyes, anger soon being pumped into his veins from seemingly nowhere.

He sat up, throwing the blanket off of him, eliciting a gasp from Lindsey. Frank avoided eye contact with the two of them, reaching down and pulling on his old converse.

"Frank?" Lindsey spoke quietly, watching the other man snatch his "Fuck Your Crew" t-shirt off of the dirty carpet with a huff.

"If you two want to fuck, then I'll fucking leave. It's not that hard," Frank spoke through clenched teeth, pulling his shirt over his head and searching for his pink belt, but giving up after a minute, "though I can't see why you couldn't fuck in a motel room or in _her_ tour bus."

Frank grabbed his pack of cigarettes and a lighter before he walked out of the tour bus, slamming the door shut before either of the two people still sat on Gerard's bunk could respond to his comment.

The night air was still, a cool breeze blowing through Frank's hair and soothing him. He walked away from the tour bus where it was still parked, outside the venue they had played at an hour or two earlier, taking one of the cigarettes out of the pack. Frank placed it in between his lips, using his left hand as a shield to the wind while his right hand struggled to light it.

Once his lighter finally decided to work, he took a long drag, his eyes rolling back in his head as his eyelids fluttered shut. Frank reveled in the way the smoke burned the back of his throat and invaded his lungs, the nicotine calming his racing mind.

Frank leaned up against a building, smoking his cancer stick and thinking about how he was going to stop everything he was doing with Gerard.

**_I'm always_ ** **_missin_ ** **_' people that I shouldn't be_ ** **_missin_ ** **_'._ **

**_Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance._ **

**_I know that I control my thoughts, and I should stop_ ** **_reminiscin_ ** **_'._ **

As much as it hurt to think about for even a second, Frank knew that it was something he had to do. He loved Gerard, that much was obvious, but Gerard only ever wanted him when he was drunk, or when no one else was around. Gerard was breaking him, more than he already was, and no matter how much Frank wanted him, Gerard just wasn't good for him.

Frank quickly blinked away the tears that were brimming in his eyes, looking up into the sky and taking in a shaky breath, ashing his cigarette on the ground.

If only Gerard could see how much Frank was affected by him not giving a single fuck about him.

Frank tossed the rest of the cigarette, going back to the tour bus.

It was going to be another hour (at least) until Lindsey and Gerard were done messing around, and Frank was going to sit on the sidewalk outside of the tour bus and wait. Even though he had nothing better to do, he was tired, and as soon as either Lindsey walked out to go back to her bus or Gerard stepped out for an after-sex smoke -like always - Frank was going to go back inside and go to sleep.

Surprisingly, when the tour bus came into sight, Frank saw the door wide open, Gerard sitting on the steps with his hands clasped in his lap. He was staring at the ground, his eyebrows furrowed with an indiscernible emotion draped over his face.

Frank approached the older man, his eyebrow raising as Gerard stood, locking eyes with him. Gerard turned around and went into the bus, Frank following behind him.

Frank closed the door, being sure to keep it unlocked for when Mikey and Ray got back from the bar. When he turned back around to make his way to his bunk, Gerard stood in front of him, his arms crossed as he glared down at him.

"What?" Frank asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared up at Gerard. He seemed to have sobered up quite a bit, and Frank could tell that he was not happy.

"You've got some nerve," Gerard mumbled, looking Frank up and down, making the shorter man uncomfortably shift his weight between his feet. "You could have just stayed in your bunk like a good little boy, but no, you had to go and cost me some ass. You're a real dick, you know that?" He spat.

Frank clenched his fists, and came to the decision that now was a better time than never.

" _I'm_ the dick?" He said in disbelief, pushing Gerard back so he stumbled back onto Frank's bunk, a surprised look on his face. Frank approached him, pointing a finger at the singer, a vein becoming prominent on his temple. "You're calling me the dick, when you have to go and play with my feelings like they're toys every other fucking day? Is this a game to you, Gerard?"

Gerard stayed silent, watching as Frank spoke with his hands, proving that he really was fed up with everything.

"It's been years, Gerard," Frank said slowly, staring right into Gerard's eyes without fear, "I've had to deal with you and your teasing nature for years. I realized my feelings for you back during Revenge, but you didn't care. You were too busy drinking, and then you'd come to me later that night, begging for my dick or begging for me to eat you out. What was I supposed to do? You had me wrapped around your finger. I was blinded by my fucking love for you. Unlike you, every time I said, 'I love you', I actually meant it!"

Frank threaded his fingers through his hair, tugging until the pain was too much. "I fucking believed you, Gerard. How stupid of me, right? You probably used the same tactics with Lindsey and everyone else you've ever fucked, or been fucked by. I can't do this anymore. I can't deal with you knowing that you never take me seriously. You're a fucking alcoholic who used to suck dick for his next drug fix, and apparently those experiences made you incapable of compassion for anybody! You hurt me, Gerard Way. You fucking hurt me really bad, and I don't even think you care."

The two men stared at each other, the only noises in the room being Frank's shaky breaths and quiet sobs. Gerard stared up at him from his seat on the bunk, his breathing heavy and his hands curled into the sheets.

"Do you feel better now?" Gerard asked, his voice void of any emotion.

"Do I have a choice?" Frank spat back, shaking from the adrenaline being pumped into his bloodstream.

Gerard remained silent, getting up and passing Frank, walking out of the tour bus and softly closing the door.

Frank collapsed onto his bunk, sobbing his eyes out into his pillow.

**_You don't care, you never did._ **

**_You don't give a damn about me._ **


End file.
